Fireside
by Lena Ban Obsidian
Summary: Rating because of excessive use of word 'damn'. ^^; A story about camping in the winter.


Fireside  
Lena

Notes: Merry Christmas, Whit! Here's your present. ^_~ 

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_Thunk!_ the dull sound of wood colliding with dirt echoed faintly through the clearing. Those birds that were still in their nests remained unfazed, long since accustomed to the sound. The man standing dead center of the brown-frosted circle was not about to give up; and, having dislodged his axe from the stubborn log, swung again. 

_Th-CLANG-ang-ang..._ He sighed, blowing up his heavy brown bangs in frustration. Of course, each log he'd picked up from their impressive reserve pile was covered in shaggy bark and filled with difficult knots. God forbid that the job should be as simple as he'd intended it. That would have been asking _far_ too much. 

Or so it seemed. 

_Crack!_

"Heh." He smirked at the perfectly split log, lying prostrate at his feet in surrender. "That's right." Glancing back at the neat cluster of smaller logs that he'd made in the last hour, he proclaimed it enough to last the night and threw the axe over his shoulder, whistling as he returned to the little log cabin in search of a carrying bin. It was cold here, freezing cold, but there wasn't enough moisture to get snow out of the fluff-clouds in the sky. Chill winds there were a-plenty, but none of that blessed white blanket he'd been hoping they'd find. 

Ah well. "Oi! Omi!" An answering 'mmn?' drifted from within the sleepy cabin. "Wood's all chopped. I'll just be a minute." 

"Hai, hai. Dinner's almost ready." 

Smiling to himself, he trudged back through the thick frozen mud with a metal-framed basket to his neat pile of juniper logs. He was glad he'd been able to talk the somewhat recalcitrant Omi into coming along with him-- all protests of wasted vacation time and Christmas obligations had died on the boy's lips when he'd explained that they would be alone-- no Yohji to hog the shower, or Aya to tip-toe around. And, most importantly, there would be no sounds emanating from Yohji's or Aya's rooms to pretend that one did not hear. 

...though he hadn't actually mentioned that. 

Basket loaded, he turned towards home, navigating troublesome pines and the numerous nameless bushes that flourished in this place, considering-- of all things--Christmas. He hadn't ever celebrated the holiday, but Omi seemed to enjoy the whole gift-giving experience. Of course, that was no surprise; Omi remembered every birthday, every holiday. 

More or less in the fashion that _he_ remembered every blush, stutter and significant look he'd garnered in their association. Perhaps one could make a holiday about giving innuendo away. The idea had merit. 

He entered the cabin shaking his head, telling himself to forget ulterior motives, assumed signals and silly wishes, as they were unlikely to be realized, and simply enjoy the fact that Omi was with him. Their fire, which had been guttering to embers as he left, was on its last leg now, the barest hint of red coals glowing enough to illuminate a single stream of smoke. 

"I'll take care of the fire, Omi-kun," he offered cheerfully, settling down to the task with relish. Nothing like a warm fire on a cold-- no, frigid-- no, _completely and utterly glacial_-- day. Buttered yellow sunlight streamed in through the thick windows, lighting the way for new, shaggy logs and kindling, a crumpled piece of newspaper and one or two carefully placed twigs. As his own finishing touch, he sprinkled the whole thing liberally with crisp, dry pine needles, which flared to life and died in almost the same instant, setting the fire into a beautiful blaze. 

"Hai," came the distracted reply, a little late. He could smell chicken, rice and garlic from where he sat, the heat of the fire dispelling some of the lingering cold in his fingers. 

Now, to examine dinner. 

"Ne, ne, what did you make, Omi?" Blue eyes flashed with amusement as he peeked into the kitchen, hiding by the doorframe. 

The smell was beyond intoxicating here; his stomach, treacherous creature, rumbled. "Dinner, Ken-kun," Cryptic, a smile curled the boy's lips. "And you just stay out there. We've already seen what you can do to an unwary kitchen." 

He pouted. Pouting always worked. "Demo! I'm sooo hungry..." His tongue darted out, wetting chapped lips, bleeding innuendo into the air as he grinned. Omi blushed. "And it smells so delicious in here!" 

"It does. Now go watch the fire. I'll bring out the food in a few minutes." 

Damn. 

Oh well. 

He noted the faint stain of embarrassment on the boy's cheeks before he turned away, and began swinging his hips as he walked, hoping those blue eyes noticed his efforts. The fire crackled merrily upon his return; he shifted one of the logs about to a better position with the wrought iron poker, distracted, amused, a little guilty, and lost for what to do now. 

His stomach rumbled. 

Oh yes. And very hungry. 

This was their second day on vacation, of seven, and more or less chores had been worked out between them. They could do laundry together, and Ken could handle keeping the house warm, so long as Omi did the cooking. There was only one bed, but a comfortable couch, so naturally he'd claimed the latter and deferred the bed to Omi (which had added another 'bright smile' to his list of happy expressions directed his way). 

They'd gone hiking this morning and there was a nice little stream filled with tempting fish nearby; after Omi had fallen in and (naturally) he'd followed, it was surprising neither of them had caught cold. Crying shame they'd been too deeply chilled for him to make a move as they'd warmed up by the fire together. But, then again, neither of them seemed to have gotten sick, so it was probably just as well they'd spent the time getting warm in a proper way. 

The door to the kitchen opened, and he couldn't help beaming at the sight of both his dinner and the cook. "Here we are," Omi purred to himself, balancing two steaming platefuls of food and looking rather proud. "Dinner is served." 

"It looks delicious!" He took his plate without further hesitation; his stomach was beginning to growl a little louder. "Thanks for dinner, Omi." 

A smile was all he got in return and they both dug hungrily in to broiled chicken, rice and broccoli, all of which had been liberally seasoned with garlic, cayenne, salt and pepper. The taste was divine, but he didn't spend a great deal of time marveling over it, as his stomach continued to protest at its mistreatment almost until he was full. The fire crackled, having a conversation all its own, while they ate. 

But the silence continued after they'd finished, and stretched thin as they rinsed off their plates in the kitchen. 

It wasn't that he was lacking for things to say, but 'Wanna cuddle?' and 'I think you're ridiculously sexy, you know' didn't seem like particularly intelligent things to say, at the moment. He quietly cursed himself and his (apparently) one-track-mind, returning to the fire and pulling up a chair to bask in its warmth. Omi silently followed suit. 

And there they sat. 

In the recesses of the twisting flames there lay a glowing bed of red-hot coals, pulsing in the way one would imagine radioactive material does, now bright, now dull, always just as hot, more intense than the bright yellow flames. He added a smaller slice of wood to the top of the fire, and within minutes it had been licked black and captured, made part of the writhing whole. It was mesmerizing. 

"Ne, Ken-kun?" 

Startled, he sat up, elbows braced on his knees, peering in owlish curiosity into the relative darkness where Omi was. "Hm?" 

Was it deliberate, the way he looked away just before their eyes met? "I was wondering...is there a reason you asked me to come with you?" Uncomfortable shifting; Omi looked almost nervous. "I mean, instead of Yohji-kun or someone else like that." 

He shrugged. "I figured you wouldn't mind the chance to get out of the city, is all. And you're better company than Yohji and Aya anyway, ne? You won't be grumbling at me without any apparent reason the entire time, or complaining about the lack of sex-worthy females, you know?" 

Omi was silent for a long moment, looking into the creature that was their fire, as hypnotized as he'd been, searching for something. "Oh...well..." Frustration clouded his face (in a cute way; Ken secretly loved that expression) "I mean, that makes sense. I guess. But was there..." One hand gestured aimlessly in the air, trying to make a point that he wasn't sure Omi even understood. "Did you want to ask me something? You've seemed kind of...like you're hiding something." 

It was his turn to look away. "Sort of," he sighed, trying to be honest without ruining things. He peeked through lowered lashes at the other boy. As suspected, there was completely naive curiosity written in Omi's furrowed brow. Dammit. Too _young_, the boy was just too feckin' _innocent_ for this. "I...well I've been meaning to..." 

Again, that silence, and the lively chatter from the fireplace. 

"Do you remember last year, when you made us all give each other gifts?" He sighed, a little annoyed with himself-- come on, Hidaka, take a few chances, would you?-- and shifted his weight off of his elbow, eyes on the embers, where it was safe to look. "For Christmas?" he finally added, voice breaking a bit. 

He could sense Omi blinking in utter confusion behind him. "A-Aa..." 

"And I couldn't find you a gift, remember? So I gave you an IOU?" He glanced at Omi only to find the boy watching him, enraptured, eyes wide, and couldn't help smiling (the type of slow smile that one reserves for very good things). "The thing I'm trying to hide might just turn out to be a belated Christmas present." 

Omi laughed, sighed, and stretched (all at the same time, the tease) and curled into his chair. "That's not very fair, avoiding the question like that." 

He propped his chin on his hands, considering his options. "I know, but..." 

"Let's do this," Omi offered, grinning. "We can play twenty questions. If I can't figure out what it is you're trying to hide from me, then I'll leave it alone and you can decide whether or not to tell me without being bothered about it. Fair?" 

His immediate reaction was a justifiably firm 'no,' but he made the mistake of looking Omi in the eye and ending up nodding, speechless, cursing his vulnerability to the puppy face. He turned his chair about to face the other boy, so that the fire was to his right. They sat still, staring at each other, waiting-- for what, he wasn't really sure-- as the fire put in its incoherent opinion about this turn of events. 

As they'd eaten, talked, not-talked, the sun had set. Beyond the flicker of the fire's dim light, the cabin was dark. It was a nice feeling, being warm and cozy in a place where there was no smog and no noise but the soft whisper of the wind outside. Omi's long-fingered hands folded together resolutely in the boy's lap, and the game began. "Is it a material present, like a toy?" 

He shook his head, grinning, relieved. He'd half-feared Omi already knew and was about to reject his proposal out of hand. "No." 

Soft lips thinned, eyes narrowed in concentration. "Do you want to do something for me, like taking my shift for a week?" A wry smile was all he needed to answer, and Omi laughed. "Of course not. Then, is it a secret you want to tell me?" 

_Uh-oh._ "Yes." 

Omi blinked. "It is?" Several moments passed before the confusion resolved into a question. "Is it a secret about my family?" He shook his head, relaxing again. _He's not thinking of anything like that. It'll be fine. He'll just end up curious._ "Is it a secret about Aya-kun or Yohji-kun?" 

He stifled a chuckle. "Well, I know plenty of 'secrets' about them, but no, that's not what I'm thinking of." Omi shot him a mock-stern look and giggled. 

"If you call their late-night activities 'secret' then I'm already in on it!" A soft sigh escaped the boy as he looked meditatively into the fire, thinking. "Is it a secret about you?" 

"Eh..." 

Cocking his head, Omi examined his face shrewdly. "Not exactly?" He only nodded, not wanting to accidentally get Omi any closer to the truth. Damnably, the boy seemed to take unspoken meaning from the manner in which he nodded. "Is it that you like me, Ken-kun?" The silence returned. Even the fire was fairly quiet in the tense stillness. He tried wildly to think of an appropriate answer, certain he was flushed bright red and not daring to meet Omi's gaze, fumbling mentally each time a possible reply came to his lips. 

Finally, he sighed, resigning himself to the simple fact that he owed Omi the truth. "...yes...but..." Fighting the urge to just leave it at that, he forced himself to think each word out, carefully, all the while wanting to bite his tongue in half. "It's more...more than just that. I..." He faltered, glancing up into concerned, confused blue eyes. "Omi, I think I could...I mean, I...well...dammit, I think I _love_ you." 

And then a whole new kind of silence descended. 

He chewed on the inside of his lip and sat in miserable silence, sorry but not sorry, waiting for the inevitable. Omi couldn't possibly feel the same way, not after Ouka, not after being betrayed or deserted by everyone who'd ever claimed to love him. There was nothing that he had to offer that Omi really needed; the boy was about as self-sufficient as one could get. Having another admirer-- different gender or no-- added to his list probably wasn't much of a Christmas present, really. Damn it. Damn it again. Damn it all to hell. 

"Thank you, Ken-kun." There was a soft, surprised, sad kind of overtone to Omi's voice; it made him look up, worried that he'd truly hurt his friend. He saw the bewildered smile first, and felt the same kind of shock he was seeing take over him as well. They only looked at each other, too amazed and apologetic to do anything more, while the fire crackled beside them. "Thank you so much." 

Before he knew what had happened, there was a warm body hugging him, Omi's strawberry-scented hair under his nose and laughter (relieved and joyous all at the same time) shaking both of them. The night passed without any further events; they held each other until the fire guttered out-- and it was enough, for them. 

~The End~  
Merry Christmas- to the season of giving, ending, and beginning again.

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